


listen, the snow is falling

by walkthegale



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Rescue, Snow, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthegale/pseuds/walkthegale
Summary: Hecate had been worried, of course, since a little after dinner, when Ada was expected back and hadn’t appeared.
Relationships: Ada Cackle/Hecate Hardbroom
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43
Collections: The Hackle Summer Trope Challenge





	listen, the snow is falling

**Author's Note:**

> For week 3 of the 2020 Hackle Summer Trope Challenge: https://cassiopeiasara.tumblr.com/post/620873225399926784/hackle-summer-trope-challenge-week-3-of-8
> 
> Prompt: **Stranded**

“My broom has, um, stopped.”

Hecate blinks. The blinding rush of relief at seeing Ada’s face in the mirror almost overwhelms her, and for a moment she can't speak.

Ada looks tired. Unsurprising, given the time of night. She’s holding her pocket mirror close to her face, so Hecate can’t make out her location, but she can tell that it’s dark, and from the wind whipping through Ada’s hair, certainly outdoors.

Fortunately, Ada continues her tale without any prompting from Hecate. She was held up at the conference, got talking to a group of witches with some very interesting viewpoints that she’s keen to share with Hecate at a more appropriate time, and it was already late by the time she left. And then her broomstick failed her, still many, many miles from home.

“...I’m too tired to transfer home tonight, so I’ll find my way back in the morning. I’m terribly sorry for disturbing you so late, Hecate, but I didn’t want you to miss me at breakfast and… worry, I suppose.”

If Hecate didn’t know better, she’d say Ada was blushing, just a little, out there in the darkness.

Ada didn’t want her to worry. _Oh_.

She had been worried, of course, since a little after dinner, when Ada was expected back and hadn’t appeared. Of course, she knew it was likely Ada had just been delayed in leaving, but it got later and later, and she found herself checking her watch and more and more frequently as the evening wore on. And she didn’t mirror her because, well, because then Ada would have known she was needlessly worried. Would have known that Hecate couldn’t keep Ada from her mind for so much as a few hours. Would have known that Hecate was so aware of the exact moment that Ada was supposed to step back into the castle that she felt her subsequent absence like a knife under her ribs.

“Where will you stay?” she finally finds the presence of mind to ask.

Ada smiles, but Hecate can tell it’s half-hearted. “I don’t know yet, but I flew over a village about a mile back.” She shrugs. “I’m sure there will be a pub with a room available.”

Hecate is suddenly sure she can see Ada shivering. Out there, alone on some hillside on this midwinter night, Ada is cold, while Hecate is here in Ada’s castle, warm and secure. Well, currently somewhat less than warm, on a chair, still fully dressed, where she had been waiting… for Ada. To feel the comfort of Ada’s magic, distant but omnipresent, back where it should be, and know that Ada was safe in her rooms.

“I’ll come and get you.” The words are out of Hecate’s mouth before she can recall them. She feels a heat rise in her own cheeks.

“Don’t, Hecate,” Ada returns, quickly, though her voice wavers with obvious indecision. “I don’t want you to waste all that energy. It’s my own silly fault for leaving so late, and not checking the broom properly, and it’s the middle of the night.”

“Precisely.” Hecate feels more sure of herself now. “It’s the middle of the night. Nowhere will be open to give you a room. And I have… it won’t be so hard, for me.”

The last thing she wants is to make Ada uncomfortable. Ada is so utterly brilliant at so many aspects of magic, but transferring is one of Hecate’s particular skills, a combination of a small natural talent and many years of dedicated practice. She has weighed up how tired she is, alongside a rough idea of the distance she would need to go - there and back again, with the added measure of Ada on the second journey. It will be no small effort, but she can definitely accomplish it.

“Hecate…” Ada pulls her cloak tighter about her shoulders, and Hecate is sure she can make out a few flakes of snow beginning to drift about Ada’s face.

“Where are you?” She puts a note of command into her voice that she has never before dared use with Ada - one honed in the classroom.

In the mirror, Ada raises one eyebrow, and for a horrifying moment, Hecate thinks she’s made a terrible mistake, but then Ada tells her. She gives her the name of the nearby village, and a decent enough sense of her own proximity to it, and Hecate is certain she can find her with little difficulty.

Hecate doesn’t give it another thought, doesn’t even pause to end the mirror connection. She pushes her chair back as she gets to her feet, focuses in on Ada’s location, draws up her magic, and with absolute confidence, takes a step through the world to where she wants to be.

She arrives in a field, under a heavy sky, and the crisp depth of the cold takes her by surprise. She has to brace herself to withstand it. Peering through the dark and the flurrying snow, she can make out a figure that can only be Ada, about a hundred yards away and heading in her direction. Annoyed by the slight misjudgement in her aim, Hecate takes less than a second to cast a brief, haphazard spell to protect herself from the very worst of the elements before making a beeline towards Ada, her progress slow over the thick, ice-encrusted grass.

“Oh goodness, Hecate, look at you!” Ada announces as soon as she’s close enough. “You came all this way without even a cloak! You must be freezing!”

Hecate bites back an unhelpful remark about Ada’s own state of dress - while a little cosier than hers, it’s hardly suited for an oncoming snowstorm. Instead, she reaches out and takes Ada’s arm, and Ada steps in close beside her. A nearness that Hecate barely lets herself register before she wraps the strands of her magic carefully and quickly around the both of them, whisking them back to the castle. The return journey is easier, even with two - she lets the feeling of home envelop them, weaving its way into her magic and carrying both of them along the way.

She realises a moment too late that she has brought them both back to her own rooms, where it is painfully obvious that she had yet to go to bed. Perhaps, she thinks wildly, dropping Ada’s arm like it might burn her and stepping away, perhaps Ada will merely think she’s standardly this much of a night owl. Perhaps she’ll think Hecate was up late finishing some marking, or some research. Perhaps she won’t think about it at all.

Standing in the middle of Hecate’s bedroom, her arms clutched around herself, her shoulders hunched against a cold that’s no longer present and a few remaining snowflakes melting rapidly in her hair, Ada smiles, sheepishly. Hecate feels her heart skip in her chest, and hopes desperately that she’s managing a neutral expression. All she wants is to go back to Ada’s side. To cast a gentle warming spell, and wrap Ada tightly in her arms until Ada stops trembling. Or until, the treacherous, insistent voice in the back of her mind adds for her, she can make Ada shiver for other reasons.

“Thank you, Hecate,” Ada says, her bright blue eyes fastened to Hecate’s. “I am in your debt.”

“Never,” Hecate tells her, knowing she’s putting too much emotion into her voice but unable to prevent it. “It was my pleasure. I’m glad… I’m glad you’re home.”

A moment passes that lasts just fractionally too long. A moment where Ada just looks at Hecate and the rest of the world fades away, save for the thunder of Hecate’s own heartbeat in her ears, so loud she’s sure Ada must hear it too. An image takes hold of her in that moment, one where she takes that step forward. Where Ada’s arms are waiting for her. Ada’s lips, soft and enthusiastic, ready to meet her own.

She tries to shake it off. She tries.

Ada opens her mouth to speak, and there’s something there, something in her face, in her eyes, in the set of her posture. In the weight of the air between them. Hecate feels like she’s witnessing her own feelings reflected back at her. She is so very almost sure of it.

“Well, goodnight,” is what Ada says, eventually, her gaze flitting to the ceiling, to the floor, to the wall behind Hecate’s left ear. “And thank you again.”

Hecate flutters her fingers at her side, opening the door for Ada to leave. “Goodnight,” she manages, her voice catching in her throat despite herself.

Once Ada has gone, Hecate readies herself for bed. Such a small way away, she can feel the faint background hum of Ada's magic, can feel the castle settling back to normality. Ada is safe at home, and life can go on the way it should.

Even so, it takes Hecate quite some time to fall asleep.


End file.
